A low shriek of fury escapes her as she's scooped up; the guards shuffle amongst themselves and pretend not to hear.

Once on their bed, it takes her a moment to extricate herself from the tangle that her blankets turned into, and then her head emerges. "What am I supposed to do now that I'm in here?" she demands, untangling her legs. "Twiddle my thumbs? Take up knitting? I am," she snatches a tissue off the bedside table and angrily blows her nose, "feeling better."